


fade into you

by plum_berry



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/M, Mild Smut, Spoilers, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:54:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22258279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plum_berry/pseuds/plum_berry
Summary: she is in pain, physical and emotional. yet she is arching her back so her chest brushes against his, desperate to see his eyes. but solas keeps his eyes shut.
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas
Kudos: 11





	fade into you

**Author's Note:**

> this could be triggering for some, so please don't read if suicidal thoughts trigger you! i am sad and hate solas :(

she is trying, she’s trying so hard not to let the sob break from her throat as solas fucks her for what would be the last time. and it feels so good, it’s always been good, always been amazing, but she knows solas is trying trying so hard to feel, to feel anything again.

it hurts her chest to breathe.

solas is holding onto her hips with an iron grip.

her lungs begin to split, tissue and muscle tearing and splicing together to form a noose in the cavity of her chest. she is in pain, physical and emotional. yet she is arching her back so her chest brushes against his, desperate to see his eyes. but solas keeps his eyes shut.

everything seems like the first time again, she’s breathing hard and fast, digging her nails into solas’ shoulder blades. but solas does nothing. he had stroked her face the first time after removing her vallaslin, kissed her cheek as he stroked her thigh, but he won’t open his eyes.

why isn’t he doing it?

why did he stop?

why did solas stop? 

solas finds her pleasure, deep in the root of her, and she moans hard, holding onto his shoulder. her eyes are burn like acid, tears falling silently as she gets fucked, why did solas stop touching her cheek? she is confused and upset but the one thing that pushes her over is looking up and seeing solas stoic. acid burns into her cheeks. and it’s not sex-crying like she does sometimes. it's the kind of crying where she’s struggling to hold herself together. her fingers burn and the ache of emptiness breathes and lives in her.

the worst part is when she is so close to coming and solas knows, and she begs, “choke me, _vhenan_.”

solas knows why she wants to be choked. her lungs are filling with dead flowers. he remembers the flowers in her mouth when he first fucked her, and now the flowers are dying. they’re dying and falling into her lungs. she needs flowers with dead petals, and solas wraps around his hand around her throat. his hand feels like a knife, a scalpel slicing into her skin while he tightens around her neck. she decides that she would like to die, there underneath him.

she can’t breathe, and solas could kill her. maker, she wants solas to kill her. she yearns for solas to squeeze harder, to squeeze so hard that her neck snaps and the bones are all misaligned. if she dies from this, she wants solas to cut her throat open and rip every single one of those damned flowers out of her throat by the roots. she wants solas to keep the stems in his hands until they brown and fall apart.

she’s so scared to die, but it is better than the present she is faced with. solas has his eyes closed, he is distant and breaking away from her. she wants to forget everything, to keep her from grieving over the fact that she’d die right now for solas. she knows solas would kill her if he wanted to. she would die for this man, but he keeps her living, the last act of love.

she can’t breathe and tears keep trickling down the side of her face. she can’t breathe; she wishes that solas would die.

it feels so good to know her flowers are still there, she can feel them, but she’s not stopped crying. her lips are turning purple now, just like she imagined the petals of those lilies would be when she felt them bloom.

the petals are fading into a part of her; solas hates him. solas absolutely hates her so much for keeping the damn petals, and now he’s pushing deeper, harder, against her thighs. he hates her for being unlike himself; he hates her for loving him.

her eyes are wet and there is acid rain falling from her eyelashes.

solas moves his hand from her hip and puts it on her chest, making it even harder to breathe as he levels himself. she cries, little sobs shaking her shoulders while she grips the sheets. she presses her cheek into the pillow turned to the side just the smallest bit to avoid the unmasked gaze of solas.

she can’t stand it, can’t stand the fact that this is the closest they’ve been because they know it’s their last time together. she tries so hard to make herself hate him, but she can’t. and solas is trying harder to make himself feel something again like he had before; he wants new seeds on his tongue, new flowers in his mouth.

he wants a new flower he decides, and as he makes his decision, she can feel him detaching from her, she can feel their souls pull apart. she’s hardly breathing because of solas’ entire weight bearing down on her, but she takes no issue because she doesn’t want to breathe anymore.

the worst part is when he lets go of her neck, and she gasps, her voice becoming clearer again. she can breathe, and maker, she fucking hates it. she screams his name over and over, a call in the fade. she wants solas to make flowers grow again and again and again, but solas wants to forget his name.

she wants the pull back, she wants it all back. solas knows he’s wrong for it, wrong for everything because if there’s anyone who deserves it back, it’s her. solas keeps his eyes closed. he wants to break the bones under his fingertips, uproot veins and ligaments.

solas never loved her quite like she loved him. she loves solas, but he loves what she is. he never loved her, just her anchor.

she is so desperate, crying harder now, just whispering, " _lathbora viran, vhenan._ " his cheeks are still dry and she can feel the dead stem of his embrium fall into her stomach as solas chokes on his breath, squeezing his eyes shut and letting out the sound she's waited for- strangled - leaving between his lips while he finishes off, “ _ir abelas, ma vhenan._ ”

she knows then that it’s all over and there's nothing left. her fingers try so hard to grow a garden onto solas’ wrist as she grabs his hand. she hopes the bones break.

she screams again, pounding her fists on his chest as her garden dies, flowers bubble with blood and tabun chemicals. death should ensue in mere seconds. 

the flowers squeeze so tight that when he pulls away, she throws up a clear, yellow liquid - her skin burns red. she pretends the colours are from the embrium that he grew fond of, that soft red and empathy - healing.

she is weak, unable to keep solas there as he pulls away. she goes to yell, to beg, but the flowers still in her mouth and throat and lungs slicing harder into her chest. she begs, voice ripping through the empty room as solas makes his way out through the window.

their eyes lock for one last time. she screams, “ _ma ghilana mir din'an!_ ” her voice cracks and shreds from the thorns of a rose sprouting inside her larynx. 

solas doesn’t weep. he looks away from her desperate figure, turning to face the open. “ _ir abelas. falon’din enasal enaste._ ”

it’s so unfair to her. she bites down on her bottom lip and looks at the ceiling, tears falling faster, “ _garas quenathra?_ ”

he is about to leave, about to leave her alone in her wake. he plans on never coming back, but she looks back up at him with those eyes and rips skin from his scars and places bloody fingerprints into his hand.

her face is streaked with tears, her wrist dripping blood and shoulders shaking. they’re still covered in those fucking daisies.

he is running before realizes it, the bloody fingerprints tattooed into his palm.

“ _fen'harel ma halam._ ”


End file.
